Broken
by Wrath-Chu
Summary: I thought I would be able to gain my freedom from Russia...To protect my people and myself. Little did I know, what I had endured in the past was nothing like I was about to experience at the hand of Russia. RussiaxLithuania


**A/N:** This was written for a good friend of mine who asked for a Russia/Lithuania involving psychological torture and rape. Being my first time attempting to write boy/boy, I wondered how I would do this so I did a little research and found that in 1901, Lithuania tried to gain it's independence from Russia which did not end well (I believe it ended in Revolution, which set the stage for the Russian Revolution starting in 1905.) This was also in Hetalia canon when Russia begins to lose his sanity, which increases his drinking and his own violence toward Lithuania. Don't you just love history?

**Warning for boy/boy, psychological torture, violence, alcohol consumption and implied rape.** You have been warned.

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Cold...The numbing feeling that sank into one's body with little remorse. Of course...That is the only way I can survive. I have no other choice but to accept the numbness, when I am with Russia...That is all I can feel. I tried to escape from him...To not only save myself, but to save my people.

"O šventa motinos ... Prašau išleisti mane." Those words...Spoken in my own language...A language, even though it is my own...I had not heard myself utter those words since the first revolution in the nineteenth century. My own personal prayer...A prayer for release.

"My dear Lithuania, why must you speak in such a common, peasant language around me?"

That voice. That calm, childlike voice now speaking with a strong slur. I felt a warm gloved hand grab my chin as it forced my head to look straight into the eyes of my captor, his face was close to mine with the strong smell of vodka emitting from his lips. His cold purple eyes were wide and blood shot, most likely from insomnia or from the alcohol. His gaze was wild, his lips twisting into a frantic, depraved smile. This look was nothing like I had seen on the likes of Russia, he looked like a lonely, kicked puppy. Only a puppy that was ready to attack his owner if provoked.

"You tried to leave me again Liet...Why must you hate me? What have I done to you to make you hate me?" His voice was no longer calm, but desperate. Russia was past his breaking point...No...He had finally broke, and I was the cause.

"Russia?" I couldn't help but utter that question, my face still being forced to be locked to Russia's as the stench of vodka began to sting my eyes as they began to water.

I heard him give a low growl as he drops my face back into something cold...My cold, soft cushion. I couldn't help but look upward at Russia as I watched him rise to his feet, feeling my face lose what little color it had left as I watched him cradle a pistol in his right arm like an infant child. In his left hand, he held an empty bottle of vodka.

"Everyone hates me...The people are in a conspiracy to overthrow me, I am all alone. The people...MY people have all turned against me! They all hate me, and now you hate me as well!" I felt my ears beginning to ring as I kept my eyes on the pistol in his right arm before he moved it to his hand. He closed his eyes as he held the gun to his head. "You don't know what it's like to be hated...To be feared by all, rebellions against me, conspiracies to be murdered by your OWN PEOPLE!" His voice was loud and even more slurred than before, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks like the snow that he so despised. A country that rules with a sense of absoluteness, ruling with an iron, unbendable fist...I watched as he continued to crumble under his own doings.

"Prašom! Please...Put the gun down...We can work something out..." I could barely hear my own voice, cold and distant as I tried to block my mind from the torture I had been placed under only to allow the numbing cold that the snow provided.

His bloodshot eyes opened as his clouded gaze fell down to me, mechanically pointing the gun to my forehead as a serene smile began to form on his lips. "I can make sure that you can never leave me Liet...I can shoot you...Then myself. Then...Together...We can finally be together forever...In death, I can make this happen."

"Russia...Please...Be reasonable...We are so c-close...I promise...I will never leave you again." I couldn't believe that those stammering words came from my mouth. Death...Wouldn't be so bad. Though...I had to think of my people...Who would lead them if I go?

"...You're lying to me...You will leave me again like you always do...I'll be alone again." Russia whispers, his voice quiet and hurt as he stared at me in a I believe a blank, alcohol induced stare. "...Do you know why I like sunflowers so much?"

I could only feel my head shake as I kept my eyes on the barrel of the gun that was still pointed at my head. I watched out of the corner of my eyes as Russia dropped the empty bottle into the snow, raising the gun to his chest as he cradled it like a favorite doll. "Sunflowers are bright...They make me happy...But every time I try and grow them...They wither and die. Sunflowers...Remind me of you."

I could feel a pang of guilt bubble in the pit of my stomach at hearing those words, I felt my eyes close as warm tears fell down my cheeks. I didn't notice as Russia bent down in front of my again in the snow before I felt the unforgiving, cold metal brush against my already numb chin as the muzzle of the gun pushed my chin upward before I felt wet lips against my own. I could taste the alcohol as I felt his tongue force its way into my mouth...As if he was trying to reclaim what was once "his." I knew I would never be the one to heal the broken soul of Russia, nor could I...Even if I tried.

I did nothing as Russia did as he pleased with me, my body was not only numb from laying in the snow at the hands of a psychopath...But my heart and mind had also become frozen from the treatment I had been forced to endure.

I didn't know when he finished, but I soon found myself in a warm bed with starched, itchy sheets with a quilt covering my quivering, frost-bitten body. I looked toward the nearby table as I stared blankly at Russia, watching as he downed another bottle of vodka. He soon noticed I was awake...The last thing I remember him saying in a quiet, drunken slur before I felt myself pass out was this...

"Liet...You are the only person I care for...But now...You can hate me like everyone else."


End file.
